Rain
by BookLovinWorm
Summary: A one-shot for what happens after the war. An insight on Arya's emotions, thoughts...And more. This one has a sorta happy ending. I tried! And it's not as boring as it sounds. Read the reviews if you don't believe me.


***I do not own Eragon. Who would really think I would anyway? Semi-important note at bottom.***

Rain.

It streaked down her face, mixed with her tears. It showed no mercy as it fell upon her, pounding relentlessly, soaking her. No could tell she was crying, grieving for something that could never be regained.

Rain.

It helped her conceal her tears as she shook from grief. If someone had seen her, they would have thought that she was shaking form the cold. The bitter gray clouds showed no sign of stopping, just as she will not stop suffering. There was no more sunlight to brighten her life. The war had taken all that mattered to her. It was too late to say any last words. Too late to say what really mattered. Reality was cruel. It had never given her a break, never let her enjoy life. It was only filled with pain and suffering. She had been so foolish to lock up her feelings, only for them to backfire with full force. What good would it have done to show no emotion? To stay stoic? Nothing, I tell you, nothing. She had trapped herself in a cage; bleak and miserable.

Rain.

Here she sat, upon a marvelous grave. Eventually it would erode from the weather as the world changes and reforms. But right now, it just reminded her of the horrible things she had done. He didn't deserve the verbal torture that ripped his heart to shreds. No, certainly not. He probably resented her, hated her, for the things she had done. She thought it was for the best, oh but how wrong she had been. As water cascaded down the curves and edges of the grave, making it glisten, she looked towards the face. The figure seemed so surreal, so calm and prideful atop his opalescent dragon. His sword was poised in the air, glinting a metallic blue while his dragon reared on two hind legs, letting loose a gruesome roar.

She reached her hand towards the figure's carved cheek, gently caressing it, not caring about the icy touch. It had been her fault that he died. His idiotic infatuation with her-no, _love_, with her caused it. How had she been so oblivious all this time? Why had she not seen it earlier?

She sighed and dropped her hand to her side, reading over the engraving at the bottom of the pedestal and sniffled.

_Here lies the greatest of heroes, Bane of the Ra'Zac, and savior of Alagaësia, may his legacy live on._

_He gave his life to save others, and now may the troubles of life bother him no more as he rests peacefully in eternal sleep._

She should have died, not Eragon, not him. He didn't deserve to die. He was still so young, so much potential gone to waste. Perhaps, if she had realized sooner, then he could have lived, been loved and had a family. But Fate had been cruel to him, also.

It was her job now to see the future for him, she had promised. And Arya would wait as long as she needed to join him, raising their child as she went.

"Mama, who is this?" A child, about the age of seven, looked up wonder with deep green eyes.

Arya turned around and gathered the child in her arms, then, turning back again said, "This. This, Bregolien, is the hero who saved the whole of Alagaesia. He was a wonderful man, and…a dear friend of mine."

She ruffled his wet hair, smiling as she thought he looked just like Eragon.

"Come, you will catch a cold if you stay out here too long, Bregolien." Arya set Bregolien down, offering her hand to him.

"Could I ride Eridor tomorrow, then?" He grinned widely, excitement showing in his eyes.

She looked down and saw his radiant smile, giving in with a playful sigh; Arya tugged his hand to get him walking.

"Very well, Bregolien; but only if you behave."

"Oh I will mama, don't you worry."

He bounced alongside her as they walked towards their home, the clouds finally parting and allowing the sunlight to hit them.

***I like this one-shot. And it was all provoked by the word rain. Can you believe that? I can. And the kid's name is pronounced Brehg-ole-ee-ehn. Sigh. A side note. I haven't had the time to update Feelings Dug up, but I will eventually. I have like half a chapter done. But anyway, I have no idea where this story came from, but I just had an image in my head that turned into a story. I'm just cool like that. ;) I don't expect many people to review this, but if you want, no one is stopping you. **

**~Keep reading =)* **


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